“Well maybe you should just go ask him. It can’t hurt to ask, can it?”
He slightly raised an eyebrow. “That might be up for debate. But why don’t you go ask him,” he seemed to smirk. “I’ve tried a dozen times, but maybe you’d have better luck.”
“Uh, I’d rather not,” I replied. “But if you’re not going to then maybe I will.”
He sighed. “Fine, I’ll go ask him.” He set his plate on the counter and made his way to the extra bedroom. He knocked and said, “Hey Tyse, you hungry? We’ve got pizza.” He waited for a response but didn’t seem to get one, and shrugged at me as if to say, “See? Told you so.”
Gage grabbed his food and sat down on the couch, but I couldn’t just let it go. Why would a guy be so set on sitting in his room all day when there were people to hang out with, pizza to eat, and ESPN?
While the guys were busy watching TV, I knocked on Tyse’s door myself. Through the noise of the family room I couldn’t hear anything behind the door even if I tried, but I knocked again, a little bit louder. It was risky, but I cracked it open to peek inside the room.
At first I didn’t see anything—a few boxes stacked against the wall, then a dresser, then a few more boxes, then the foot of a bed… As I opened the door a little further I cautiously stuck my head inside to view the rest of the room. Tyse was sitting on the bed with his back to the door, still in just a pair of shorts. In his hands was a guitar, and he seemed to be playing it, but I didn’t hear any sound. That’s when I noticed he had on a pair of headphones, and they were plugged in to an amplifier.
So he sat in his room and played his guitar all day, huh? That didn’t seem too bad. At least he wasn’t plotting a bank heist or dealing drugs on the street corner.
I realized that it was really awful of me to think such thoughts, so I quickly dismissed them.
I took a deep breath to muster up some courage and made my way further into the room. I knew the worst thing I could probably do was to startle him—I envisioned him breaking my arm as he threw the intruder to the ground—so I circled around the bed the furthest from him that I could. He startled anyway the second he saw me, and he didn’t look too happy that I’d entered his lair. But all he did was take off the headphones and flip a switch on the amplifier.
“I’m sorry,” I said right away, “but you didn’t seem to hear anyone at the door.”
He didn’t respond and only stared at me at first. Finally he got up from the bed and set the guitar on a chair, pushing the amplifier into the corner with his foot. “So what can I do for you?” he asked as he faced me.
I was tempted to ask him to put a shirt on—staring at his bare chest was a little intimidating—but I was the one in his room, and had no right to do so.
“Um, you can come out and eat some pizza,” I replied. “There’s a lot.”
He paused briefly before replying, “No, but thanks anyway.”
“Why not?”
He paused again and looked me over. It made me feel self-conscious, like he was undressing me with his eyes or something.
“They send a female messenger to see if it gets a better response?” He shook his head slightly and added, “I’m not hungry.”
“Well I don’t know what that little remark is supposed to mean, but I came here by my own choice. I just wanted to feed you. Sorry I bothered you.”
I didn’t wait for him to respond and I left the room, closing the door behind me. I was really agitated with him, but do you know what I did when I returned to the kitchen? I piled several slices of pizza onto a plate, covered it with foil, and shoved it to the back of the refrigerator for him in case he changed his mind.
I joined Gage in the family room and tried to forget about his recluse of a roommate. I wasn’t surprised when Tyse never did come out of his room to mingle with us, but I still wondered what his deal was. I tried to think back on the past ten days, to that Monday when I saw him for the first time. He must have just arrived in town that night, with his cellmate of a buddy that brought him up from California. He’d had on shorts and a tank top, and he’d set his sunglasses on top of his head when he asked if I was okay. I couldn’t believe he was the same guy I felt sorry for on Gage’s team. The baseball uniform completely changed his appearance, from the hat on his head to the sleeves that covered his tattoos. I had no idea that it was even the same guy!
The house became quiet around nine o’clock. Wes and his other two teammates left for a while, and Wyatt went to bed early because he had to get up for work at five. Dawn was working a swing shift for the week, so that was the reason she wasn’t over, but Gage and I took up the couch in the front room to enjoy some time with just the two of us. We watched a movie, but mainly we spent the time talking and cuddling with one another.
By the end of the movie, we were stretched out on the couch together and Gage was asleep. I left him where he was and just watched the news for a little bit before I was going to head home.
Then I heard a door open at the back of the house, and someone entered the kitchen. I knew it was Tyse because Wes wasn’t home yet, and I wondered if he’d just gotten hungry enough to raid the refrigerator. All I heard was the water running in the sink though, and I was too curious to not check it out. It felt ridiculous that I was expecting to spy on him in the kitchen, but he saw me just as I saw him.
He had a few plastic water bottles that were now full, and it appeared like he had just refilled them from the sink. He dried them off with a towel and found a place for them in the fridge. At least he was dressed in a t-shirt and some baggy sweatpants, so I didn’t feel as uncomfortable around him anymore.
“Are you hungry yet?” I finally asked him.
He slightly shrugged but didn’t speak. He was about to shut the refrigerator door but I stopped it with my hand.
“I saved you some pizza if you want it,” I told him. “I don’t know what kind you like but there’s a piece from each kind we had.” I set the plate on the counter and uncovered it.
He didn’t say anything at first and just looked it over. He was so hard to read because his face didn’t make any sort of expression, but he sat down at the counter and pulled the plate toward him. He didn’t touch the pizza just yet; he just kind of stared at it.
“Do you want me to heat it for you—?” I was going to take the plate but he stopped me by holding the other end of it.
“It’s better cold,” he replied. “But, uh, thanks anyway.”
I slightly nodded. “Sure. Did you want something to drink? There’s Pepsi and 7-up, I think. I know there’s beer if, uh…you know, if you’re old enough to drink.”
He fully smiled for the first time ever, but instead of replying, he picked up a slice of pizza and took a bite. I guessed that was a ‘no’ for a drink, but I grabbed him a can of Pepsi anyway and slid it across the counter to him. I liked seeing him smile; it made me feel like he didn’t hate me entirely.
The kitchen seemed to be a mess again, even though I’d already straightened it up earlier. But there were more plates on the counter, and empty cans scattered here and there. And it looked as if someone had dropped a piece of pizza on the floor and just left the saucy remains behind.
“There are chips in the cupboard,” I pointed as I began cleaning up. “Do you want any?”
He just kind of watched me for a few seconds as he chewed, and then finally shook his head. “No, thanks,” he said, and took another bite. When he’d swallowed that bite he opened the can of Pepsi with one hand and asked, “Who do I owe for the soda?”
“No one,” I smiled. “Why, do you guys have some sort of ‘pay if you use’ policy here?”
He slightly shrugged. “No, we just buy our own stuff, use our own stuff.”
I considered that for a second as I rinsed out the sponge in the sink. “Well I bought the pop a couple of days ago, so I guess it’s mine to dole out.”
“So how much do I owe you for the pizza, too?”
I laughed. “Nothing, I guess
. Gage paid for most of it.”
He nodded but didn’t reply. I wondered what he even thought of Gage.
“Do you like it here?” I decided to ask. “I mean has staying here been okay?”
He shrugged again. “Yeah, it’s fine.”
I knew that the guys had attempted to fit both twin beds into the converted bedroom, but there just wasn’t any room with two dressers and the rest of Wyatt’s boxes stacked in various places. And stacking them as bunk beds was apparently an undesired option as well. I also decided to ask, “How’d you get the bed? Flip a coin?”
He smiled again. “Uh, no, actually Wes was very willing to take the couch.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Maybe he was intimidated by you?”
“Really?” he asked, feigning complete shock. “I just thought he was respecting his elders.”
I quietly laughed at the smile he was hiding.
“Yeah, I saw the fear in your eyes when I got out of the car,” he continued. “You thought we were gonna slit your throat or something.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Don’t lie; it doesn’t fit your personality.”
I raised an eyebrow again. “And what do you know about my personality?”
He shrugged. “Just from hearing ‘Ellie this’ and ‘Ellie that’ from Gage all week? Hmm, I’m going with ‘choir girl.’ ”
“Choir girl?” I chuckled with surprise. “I call your friend a jackass and a moron and you’re still willing to call me ‘choir girl’?”
He thought for a second. “That’s right, you did call him a jackass first. Hmm, maybe I should demote you, then. What’s just below ‘choir girl’?”
“I have no idea, but I’m no choir girl. You shouldn’t judge people, you know.”
It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “I thought it would be a compliment.”
I considered that for a second. “Well I guess it could be if you’re not meaning that I’m a goody-two-shoes or something.”
“I just meant that you seem like a nice person, that’s all. Sorry if that’s offensive, but they don’t make ‘em like you where I’m from.”
I had no idea what that meant and I was kind of afraid to ask. Was he referring to the ghetto or something? I assumed he was talking about how he grew up.
“California girls are a little different I guess,” he added. “I’m sure there are genuine people scattered here and there in the world, but I’ve yet to come across many where I’m from.”
“And where’s that?”
He took a long time with his food before he replied, “Southern Cal.”
“You’re from San Diego, right?” I waited for him to nod his head or something, but he didn’t answer and just seemed to eye me suspiciously. “That’s all I know,” I clarified. “That you and Wes are from San Diego. Is that not right?”
He took a drink and looked at me again. “Yeah, I think Wes is from San Diego. I’m further north, though. So where do you live? You’re not directly here in Portland, right?”
“Uh, no. I’m a bit south in Lake Oswego. I have an older brother, David, down in Clackamas, but my sister lives here in Portland.”
“She’s Wyatt’s girlfriend, right?”
“Yeah, have you met her?”
He shrugged. “She’s here a lot. Sometimes she’s here when Wyatt isn’t even here, cleaning the house and stuff.”
The way he’d said it made me stop sweeping the floor.
“I don’t think I’ve ever compared a person to someone else by the way they clean,” he smirked, “but you look just like your sister when you do that.”
I quickly swept up into the dustpan and slid the broom into its spot next to the fridge. “I guess we just see something that needs done and do it,” I said, emptying the dustpan into the garbage.
He slightly tilted his head. “Maybe the guys should learn to clean up after themselves?”
“They clean up after themselves,” I replied, mainly defending Gage. I didn’t know about the other guys that had been visiting.
He didn’t reply and finished off another piece of pizza as I busied myself with loading the last few dishes into the dishwasher.
“Maybe Gage does, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen Wyatt clean up after himself,” he finally said. “Why should he if your sister is right there to do it for him? Sometimes I think she waits close by, just in case he needs his mouth wiped or something.”
That kind of hit me personally, just because of my own feelings about Wyatt. I had observed the same thing many times. “I know,” I frowned.
“Oh uh, sorry, that was meant to be a joke. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
“I’m not. I mean I kind of am, but just because I really feel that way.”
“You don’t like your sister’s boyfriend?”
“Mm, I don’t know. Wyatt’s okay, I guess. I mean he never speaks unkindly to her, or says or does anything to hurt her. But maybe it’s just the stuff he doesn’t do. Like that,” I motioned, referring to what he’d just said. “You’d never see him serving her, or cleaning up after her or anything. He’s just…”
“Selfish?”
I only stopped where I was and stared at him. Hopefully he knew how badly I wanted to hear his opinion because I didn’t want to have to ask.
“Look, I don’t mean to be ungrateful because I really do appreciate having a place to stay. I’m not referring to that part of him because he’s a cool guy. I just kind of see that in his relationship with his girlfriend. She is really good to him, and he doesn’t seem to appreciate it. I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I’m sure that was out of line so…I’m sorry.”
I barely shook my head. “No, I think you’re right on. At least you share my same opinion, so now I know it’s not just me that feels that way.”
“Are you pretty close to your sister?”
“Yeah, I am. I mean we have our ‘moments,’ but yeah, Dawn and I are really close.”
“Maybe that’s why you have your ‘moments,’ ” he suggested.
“Yeah, I guess so. What about you? What’s your family like? Do you have brothers or sisters?”
He didn’t answer right away and I had no idea why. He stood up from the counter, having finished off all five pieces of pizza, and rinsed the plate in the sink. After he’d put the plate in the dishwasher he turned around and leaned against the counter, folding his arms across his chest.
“Yeah, I have both a brother and a sister, but I’m not close to them.”
“How come?” I asked automatically.
He shrugged. “Just have nothing in common.”
“Do they both live in California?”
He nodded.
“What are their names?”
He eyed me warily, but then replied, “Shane and Elise. Shane’s uh…older than me; Elise is younger. Nineteen.”
“Oh, so you’re the forgotten middle child, huh?”
“Forgotten? I’m sure they wish they could forget me.”
He’d said it with a smirk so I kind of smiled, too. “I’m sure that’s not true,” I offered.
He paused and then turned the tables. “So you can’t be the forgotten middle child, right? You’re the spoiled baby of the family.”
I smiled when he did, but I had to disagree with a shake of my head. “I had a younger brother until a few years ago. Adam died when he was six. But when he was alive…yeah, I was kind of a middle child. Dawn and David were almost like twins, and then there was Adam who required…a lot of attention.”
“In what way?”
“He had Down’s Syndrome. My parents focused most of their time on him because he had a lot of needs, and he had a lot of medical problems. I mean I understand how much he needed them, but it was still hard for me. I know that sounds really selfish,” I added with a guilty smile.
“No, it sounds normal. Parents tend to focus on the oldest and the youngest, and the middle kid can be overlooked. I’m not saying it’s always the case, but it’s pre
tty typical. I’m sure it was even harder having a brother with special needs, so don’t beat yourself up over it. You probably helped out a lot just by being a good kid.”
I had to smile, and I didn’t mean for it to give anything away, but I suppose he read me pretty easily.
“Oh, don’t tell me you were a rogue child,” he chuckled.
“No, not exactly,” I admitted. “I was just…”
“Just what?”
“I don’t know, just a little on the wild side. I had a lot of freedom, and I took advantage of the fact that my parents were busy with other things. I didn’t get into trouble too bad, but I think my parents had a rough time accepting how different I was from them and my siblings. I had different interests, and different priorities… I just think I disappointed them a lot.”
He was staring at me, but I wasn’t sure why. Maybe he was surprised I was such a selfish brat back then.
“Now you’ve totally thrown the choir girl image out the window, haven’t you?” I asked him.
He finally smiled when he replied, “That depends on what kind of ‘interests’ you had back then.”
I thought about that for a second. “Hmm, I guess you’re right.” I realized that my version of “wild” was probably very different than his.
“Well what matters is that you seem to be a good person now,” he said. “I’d like to say the past is irrelevant when we have the present and future to focus on, but the past really shapes us into who we want to be. Mistakes are made and lessons are learned, but hopefully we use that to do something better with our lives.”
“Are you speaking in general, or from personal experiences?”
After a brief pause he replied, “Nah, I’ve been perfect for most of my life. Sounds like you’re the only one that has a lot to make up for. Jeez, Miss Rebel.”
I laughed and nodded my head knowingly. “Yeah, right.”
We were both quiet for a few seconds, and even though I was thrilled to finally get him talking to someone, I also felt guilty that it was late, Gage was asleep in the other room, and I needed to get home to bed. I glanced at my watch and couldn’t believe it was almost midnight! I should have left an hour ago at the latest, and now I had a twenty-minute drive to get to my four hours of sleep.
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